


Unholy Hours of the Night

by Aspireeverything



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, i ship grantaire with happiness just so you know, jehan prouvaire is a force to be reckoned with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspireeverything/pseuds/Aspireeverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Grantaire.” The voice on the other end said. He knew that voice. He would follow that voice to the edge of the Earth and back if the owner had so desired. It woke him up almost immediately.</p><p>“Enjolras?” He replied, sitting up from his spot on the floor. “Do you know what time it is?” Quite frankly he didn’t know what time it was, but he was positive that it was far past midnight.</p><p>“Yes, it’s around 2:30 in the morning.” Grantaire made a noise at that, but Enjolras continued, seeming to not have heard it. Or if he did, he ignored it completely. “But something important has come to my attention that I need resolved right now.”</p><p>or the one where Enjolras makes a very important realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unholy Hours of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by this Tumblr post right here: http://canadianenjolras.tumblr.com/post/98569330200/orestesblasting-pyladesfunk-as-much-as-i-like
> 
> I just really love the idea of Grantaire working in a flower shop. It just really warms my heart okay. Maybe one day I'll write a whole fic about it. Maybe.
> 
> I obviously just really love the idea of Enjolras just sitting at home one night about to fall asleep then BAM his eyes snap open because he just realizes he's in love and of course, Enj being Enj, he has to sort that shit out right away.
> 
> Also, Jehan is forever a badass and definitely not someone I would want to feel the wrath of.
> 
> Look at that, my fic isn't a million words for once. I'm getting better at writing short (ish) fics, me thinks. All mistakes are regrettably mine so if you see one, please feel free to point it out!

After a couple of half-hearted attempts to insert his key into the lock at his front door, Grantaire finally managed to slip it in and turn, allowing him access into his apartment. Jehan was bound to be fast asleep at this time of night, as he always was when Grantaire got home from work.

He had a few jobs- to fill in time when he wasn’t working on his latest commission- all of which he enjoyed. He worked at the art museum across town as a guide, teaching people the history of each piece, admittedly he did interject his own opinions about the artists or the pieces sometimes. He received rave reviews from online forums, at least from what Jehan had told him. People enjoyed hearing him talk about the pieces with such fire and passion, it made people interested and he got paid to wander the halls of a museum he had fallen in love with the second he stepped in and just talk. It was a win-win situation.

When he wasn’t at the museum he worked at a café and a flower shop a few blocks away from his apartment. He worked the café on weekend mornings and the flower shop on weekend afternoons along with Jehan who dragged him in the sweet smelling shop in the first place. He loved the flower shop. It was quaint and always calming, and more often than not, a place of inspiration. Inspiration came from the customers and new shipments of flowers alike.

On weekday nights when they needed him, just as they did almost every Friday night, Grantaire worked as a rather talented bartender at a bar a ten minute metro ride away. It’s where he had just come from as he tip toed quietly into the already dark apartment, careful not to wake Jehan up.

The boy was tiny and seemingly delicate, but he was immensely serious about getting a good 8 hours of sleep a night. Without disturbances, that is.

Grantaire made that mistake once of accidentally knocking over the coat rack next to the door as he slipped in after a particularly long night of work. It had landed with a loud crash and only seconds later was he met with the fury of a rudely woken up Jehan.

He made sure to never make that mistake again.

And to stay away from the coat rack.

Grantaire was exhausted as he took his boots off, barely paying attention to the task at hand. It had been a rough week. He had commission after commission coming after he sold a painting the week before that had caused quite the buzz online. People had searched for him and hours later there he was, flooded with requests to do different kinds of work in a variety of mediums.

He was grateful, of course, but right now after hours of nonstop painting and hours of working all his jobs, he just needed to slip under the covers and sleep for maybe 12 years.

He rubbed at his eyes and yawned as he shuffled down the hallway to his room, not bothering to turn on the lights. He made his way to the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him, and all but flopped down onto his mattress. He made a content noise at the comfortable and familiar feeling of his soft bed sheets, only snuggling in closer, not bothering to rid himself of his work clothes. He eyes slid shut, his whole body finally relaxing.

“ _CUZ I’M HAPPY COME ALONG AND IF YOU FEEL LIKE HAPPINESS IS FOR YO-“_

The song blared in his room, the phone in his pocket vibrating wildly. The sudden noise startled Grantaire, but if anyone asked he was going to deny yelping and falling to the ground because nope, that definitely did _not_ just happen.

He was fairly certain that was he going to kill someone. That someone being an idiot with dark brown hair and smug grin that seemed permanent on his face. That someone also so happened to go by the name of Courferyac. Courferyac had this habit of changing Grantaire’s ringtones on a weekly basis and apparently this week he decided to go for an annoyingly upbeat one.

Grantaire pulled his phone from his pocket, praying to every deity that Jehan didn’t hear it from the other end of the hall. He certainly did not want to deal with that wrath again and if he did he would be sure to make Courf feel it tenfold.

He didn’t bother checking who it was and answered with what he hoped was an annoyed, “Hello?” but he was sure it came out more grumbled and tired sounding.

“Grantaire.” The voice on the other end said. He knew that voice. He would follow that voice to the edge of the Earth and back if the owner had so desired. It woke him up almost immediately.

“Enjolras?” He replied, sitting up from his spot on the floor. “Do you know what time it is?” Quite frankly he didn’t know what time it was, but he was positive that it was far past midnight.

“Yes, it’s around 2:30 in the morning.” Grantaire made a noise at that, but Enjolras continued, seeming to not have heard it. Or if he did, he ignored it completely. “But something important has come to my attention that I need resolved right now.”

“This couldn’t wait until morning?” At this point Grantaire was getting irritated, he just wanted to go to sleep god damn it. “Or couldn’t you ask Combeferre for help with whatever it is?”  


Enjolras was quiet for a moment at that before he grumbled, “I tried to wake him up, but he told me to fuck off and figure it out on my own.”

“Oh? That’s unfor-“

“Anyways, what I called to say is very important and I apologize that it took me until right this second to realize it and it cannot wait until morning because you need to know right now. Actually, this isn’t right.”

“What are you even talking about right now Enjo-“

“Get out of bed, I’m coming over. This needs to be said in person.” Grantaire could hear a door open and close on the other line, presumably Enjolras’s bedroom door. He heard more shuffling then another door open and close.

“What do you mean you’re coming over? Are you high right now? Oh my god, are you drunk because if you are maybe you shouldn’t be going out on the streets at this time of night,” Grantaire said, coming out of shock that Enjolras was just acting insane and cryptic and oh my god, _what is going on_?

“Be over in ten.” The other line went dead before Grantaire could protest more. He stared at the phone in his hands for a few seconds in disbelief before pulling himself up off the floor and making his way to the kitchen.

He made himself some coffee and sat at the counter because it seemed like any plan of going to sleep was shot right in the face.

***

Ten minutes later there was a loud knock on the door that Grantaire reacted almost immediately to by throwing the door open and silencing the culprit with, “If you wake up Jehan with your knocking and/or voice I swear to God _I will kill you in your sleep_.”

Enjolras nodded silently, the fist that was interrupted mid knock falling back to his side before following Grantaire inside the now dimly lit apartment. The light from the kitchen filtering through into the living room, casting shadows on Enjolras’s face. Even then Grantaire could tell that he was wearing the face usually reserved for protests and rallies and speeches, it was full of passion and purpose. He had a feeling that he might not like where this is going.

“So what is it you wanted to urgently tell me that for some reason couldn’t wait until morning?” Grantaire whispered, leading them into the kitchen so he could finish off his mug of still warm coffee.

Enjolras looked at him for a few moments as Grantaire sipped at the drink, an eyebrow raised questioningly. Enjolras looked as if he was sorting through his thoughts, trying his best to formulate his next sentence perfectly. What fell out of his lips next was certainly not what Grantaire was expecting.

“It has come to my attention that I’m in love with you,” Enjolras said, almost nonchalantly, his arms across his chest, his head titled slightly to one side.

Grantaire gaped at him for a few moments, not even realizing that mug in his hand had slipped from his grip and crashed onto the floor between them, coffee spilling everywhere. “You _what?!_ ” He yelled, his eyes wide.

“Grantaire, the mug and you said to not wake Jehan up so yelling probably isn’t the best ide-“

“Am I dead?”

“What? No you’re not dead. Grantaire, we probably should clean this mess up before we continue talk-“

“Oh my god,” his eyes widened even more, if that was possible at this point. “Are _you_ dead?” He took a step closer to Enjolras, ignoring that he was stepping in the spilled coffee and on a few ceramic mug pieces with his mismatched sock clad feet. He pinched Enjolras on the arm, trying to see if he was in fact there.

“ _Ow!_ ” He shoved Grantaire’s hand away and rubbed his arm on the inflicted area, pouting a bit.

“Oh my god and now you’re pouting, this definitely isn’t real.” There had to be an explanation for this. Maybe he did fall asleep and this was all a dream, or a dream waiting to turn into an ugly nightmare. Maybe he hit his head on his way back from work and now he was having hallucinations. Maybe Jehan unleashed his wrath on him again and now he was dead.

Anything seemed more plausible than the fact that Enjolras was standing in the middle of his kitchen at some unholy hour of the night telling him, with a complete seriousness, _that he was in love with him_. Not even in his wildest daydreams did this ever occur.

“Grantaire, you’re not asleep, you’re not having hallucinations, and you’re definitely not dead,” Enjolras placed his hands firmly on Grantaire’s shoulders in order to stop the sporadic movements as he rambled on, not even realizing the words in his head had left his mouth. Well, this was getting worse by the second.

Grantaire stopped talking once he felt the warmth on his shoulders and looked up at the blond god in front of him. He looked sincere and concerned and even a little bit frightened, but there was also a hint of fondness there. His usually stern blue eyes were soft, his lips that were usually sporting a slight frown were turned up a bit at one side, his eyebrows furrowed a bit, causing small wrinkles on his usually perfect complexion.

Then it hit him.

“You’re in love with me?” Grantaire asked, his voice falling to an almost inaudible whisper.

“Yes.” Enjolras laughed lightly, his lips tugging at a smile. “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain while you were freaking out.”

“Oh,” Grantaire breathed out, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Oh,” Enjolras mimicked, his lips finally breaking out into a full smile, the wrinkles between his brows disappearing completely, the fear leaving with them.

“That’s great because I’m in love with you too.” Grantaire smirked, no longer in a whisper, but with more confidence.

“That’s good to know because if you didn’t this whole ordeal would have been really awkward for both parties.” Enjolras wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s neck tugging him closer, the artist responding by placing his own hands on the blond’s hips, laughing at the statement.

“Well, it looks like this just worked out perfectly for both of us. Minus, of course, the fact that I broke a mug and now my feet are soaked through with lukewarm coffee and the fact that I think I hear Jehan waking up.” Enjolras’s eyes widened at the last part, snapping his head towards the first door in the hallway, a light shining under the crack of it.

“I was hoping that we could treasure this moment a little bit longer, but if we want to live to see the light of day then I suggest we make a run for it.” Grantaire eyed the door, hoping that they had a few more seconds to escape the apartment before succumbing to the wrath. He grabbed the front of Enjolras’s shirt quickly pulling him down for a peck on the lips. It was soft and sweet and far too quick for either of their likings, but they had intentions on surviving the night.

Grantaire laced his tan fingers with Enjolras’s pale ones and pulled him to the front door, escaping down the stairs and into the chill night. He would be sure to send Jehan some kind of floral _‘I’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night, please don’t kill me’_ basket, but for now he let their breathless laughter fill his ears as they continued to make their way down the street.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of ideas for future fics, but if you guys ever want anything specific from me just leave a comment and I'll try my hardest to get to writing it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
